


Imaginary

by aquabluejay



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: Abandonment, Dan's creepy smile, Gen, Imaginary Friends, Parad-Centric, Tokusatsu - Freeform, a little au, sadfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 10:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10852341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquabluejay/pseuds/aquabluejay
Summary: Children grow up and they grow out of things, or so Parad has heard people say. He never really understood what that meant until it happened to him.In which a young, infected Emu wished for a friend and then forgot about him.





	Imaginary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).



Children grow up and they grow out of things, or so Parad has heard people say.

He never really understood what that meant until it happened to him.

-

The first time Emu leaves Parad behind by accident, he simply walks out of the house without him. The boy comes home again, promising to spend the whole weekend with Parad to make up for it. He doesn’t, but it’s because his parents want to go out as a family to some new restaurant. Emu’s parents say it’s for just the three of them, no imaginary friends allowed. That’s alright though. Parad can play games while Emu is gone.  Emu reluctantly leaves Parad behind after helping him set up the gaming console in front of the TV. Parad boots up the game and selects single player as he settles himself in front of the screen.

Then Emu makes new friends at school. They invite him over after school to play. Emu goes without him.

Emu get’s new games for Christmas. Shooters and racing, multiplayer games where the players can compete head to head or in teams. He takes them to his school friends’ to play the next day.

-

Parad is home alone again. Emu’s parents are still at work and Emu is late coming home. He probably went to play with his school friends again.

Parad goes to the television in the living room where Emu's gaming console has been left set up. He presses the button on the front of the TV to turn it on. Nothing happens. He presses again, still nothing. In fact, he realizes, the button hasn't moved at all under his finger. He tries one more time, pressing as hard as he can against the little plastic button and it gives reluctantly. The TV blinks on, like usual. Parad assumes the button was just stuck or something and thinks no more of it. That is until later, when he tries to use the remote control to adjust the volume. Instead of snatching up the remote, he barely manages to bat it a few inches across the coffee table. He tries again, and only succeeds in knocking it to the floor, where the battery cover pops off. He can’t pick that up either.

That’s strange. That’s very strange. Distressing even. Parad stares helplessly down at the remote, hands fisted in his pants.

When Emu finally returns home, parents in tow, they wonder who left the TV on. Emu just shrugs, says he must have forgotten to turn it off. No one notices Parad, standing in the room, or the stricken expression on his face.

Parad runs to Emu's room. He grabs the doorknob as he passes and tries to slam the door behind him. But he only manages to make it swing gently after him. The latch doesn't quite close and it swings open again.

When Emu goes to bed that night he doesn’t notice the dip at the foot of the bed where Parad is curled, or the tear stains on the bedspread.

After the lights are out, Emu pulls out a flashlight and a new game manual one of his friends lent him. When he pulls the covers up to make a tent to hide the light, he has to tug harder than usual against some small resistance.

Emu doesn’t notice Parad tumble out of the bed, or hear the sounds of sobbing from somewhere on the floor -  not even when it stretches late into the night.

That’s when Parad begins to understand what it means to be outgrown.

-

Forgotten and discarded like the old games he used to play with Emu, Parad soon finds himself put away where things like that are stored.

Tucked away under Emu’s bed, he lays beside a lost sock and quietly gathers dust.

He picks up the sock, clenching it in his hand. It's one of Emu's, small and cheerfully patterned with colorful creatures. He wonders where the other one is, if it ended up forgotten somewhere too. Because how can one be without the other when they were made to be a pair.

Parado closes his eyes and time drifts by. He grows to match Emu. He hardly notices except that gradually he finds himself folded tighter and tighter up in the space between boxes of old games and toys. A fine layer of dust coats his clothes, hair and skin, tinting every bit of him grey.

-

The mattress is lifted away and the bed frame pushed aside. He drags himself up as the boxes of things stored there are repacked. Emu is moving? Maybe his whole family is moving? Parad doesn't know. No one has talked to him in… he doesn't know how long.

He steps unsteadily out of the way as the space is swept. No one seems to notice dustless patch where he had been lying. The little sock drops from his slack hand and is swept up and discarded along with the dust. Parad watches it fall into the waste bin with dull eyes.

Emu is there, he realizes. Pulling clothes from the closet and stacking boxes. There’s a painful sort flutter in Parad’s chest when he set’s eyes on him. He’s grown so much.

Parad thinks Emu almost sees him once. But then the boy blinks and looks through him.

Parad has grown too. He catches sight of himself in the big hall mirror when he comes downstairs. He was never tall enough to see himself in it before. He brushes two fingers through the dust on his cheek, transfixed by the sight of the two clean lines left behind. Then the moment passes and he follows the boxes out to the truck so he won't be left behind.

Parad sits atop the sealed box that holds the old games and outdated consoles in the van. The door clangs shut and he rides along in darkness.

He goes back into storage with the boxes, tucked out of sight. He’ll be there waiting. Until Emu wants to play with him again. Dust settles to new thickness on the planes of his body and the folds of his clothes, while cobwebs adorn his curls.

-

The closet opens and someone rummages, shifting the boxes stacked in the back. The tug one out and the whole stack collapses, spilling out of the closet. Parad falls out too. His legs are long asleep, months or maybe years since he bothered to try to work feeling back into them. What was the point? So he lays on the basement floor, stiff and half numb for being pressed into the back of the closet, staring up into the ceiling lights.

Emu appears in Parad’s field of vision, sitting up beside him. Emu bends over him and Parad’s heart skips a beat. But they boy, looking only a little older now, only shifts the boxes into better reach, checking their contents before taking them upstairs. Parad staggers to his still numb feet and drifts after them.

-

The yard sale is spread out over a few tables and the yard in between, with signs inviting passersby to come over and take a look. The box of old games sits out in front of one of the tables. Unnoticed, Parad sits slumped listlessly against it, staring into the middle distance.

The man who strolls up the street is not just passing by, but he takes pains to maintain the illusion that that’s so.

He turns to walk into the yard and comes up short. After a momentary pause he continues, walking up to the tables. He exchanges greetings with Emu's Parents, then browses a table full of household tools for a few minutes before changing focus.

A shadow falls across Parad. When it lingers there, he tips his head back to see the man standing there. He’s tall and slim, a dark silhouette against the bright sky as Parad blinks up at him.

“Who’s this?” The man asks.

“I'm sorry?” comes the answer from Emu's parents, confused.

“Ah... Excuse me. Rather, what is this?” The man gestures to the box of games beside Parad, bending to look into it. Except he doesn't look into the box, his gaze slides to the side and for a moment he makes eye contact with Parad. Parad’s eyes widen. Surely it’s some kind of fluke, the man can’t possibly….

The box contains some of their son’s old games, Emu's parents tell the man, they’ll call him. Emu emerges from the house a few moments later.

Parad’s back is to the house, but he tenses at the sound of Emu stepping out the front door, a fact that does not escape the man’s notice. Parad does not turn to look at Emu until the boy - a teenager now - is standing right over him.

The man discretely watches the tangled series of emotions that flicker across Parad’s face when finally he looks up at Emu. Sadness, pain, longing, frustration, despair, resignation...

The man greets the teen politely as well. As he speaks, the man puts one hand very deliberately on the edge of the box. The other he casually rests on Parad’s shoulder, brushing at some of the dust there with his thumb.

Parad's head snaps back around to stare at the man, open-mouthed. The man isn't looking at him anymore, he smiles and speaks to Emu.

“Selling off so many classics? Surely you have fond memories attached to these…”

Emu shrugs and says “I’ve beaten them all and I have newer ones, I don’t need them anymore.” Parad flinches. This too the man notes with interest.

The games in the box are indeed older, not “vintage” yet but out of date. Some Genm titles, some others. The man remembers playing some of them himself when they came back. He makes an offer for the whole box. Emu accepts the offer and the cash gladly, taking it over to his mother.

Parad squints against the sun keeping his eyes on the man. The man is smiling at Emu’s back now and Parad thinks it is not altogether a kind smile. There is something else hidden there beneath the polite expression which no one else seems to have noticed.  Parad watches, suddenly anxious, as the man picks up the box of Emu’s games, or rather, the man’s games now.

The man bids farewell to the family and walks to the edge of the yard. He pauses there and looks over his shoulder, eyeing Parad once again.

Parad surges up to his knees, swaying uncertainly for a moment until he finds his balance. Parad’s breathing quickens. His gaze flickers between Dan, the box in his arms, and Emu already walking back towards the house.

The man quirks a brow at Parad’s obvious apprehension. Parad remains where he is, wavering. Then he glances down at the marks in the dust on his coat. The marks left where the man touched him. The man turns and steps out onto the street. Parad struggles stiffly to his feet  and follows after him.

They travel a few blocks from Emu's house instead silence, Parad drifting along in the man’s wake. Then the man comes to a stop and turns, looking Parad up and down.

“How extraordinary…” the man breathes.

Parad feels suddenly self conscious. He knows he’s probably rumpled and covered in dust, and...

“Kuroto Dan,” the man says, shifting the box to one arm and extending his hand in introduction.

Parad just stares.

“What are you called.”

Parad’s opens his mouth. It takes couple tries before he can get the word out. He cannot remember the last time he spoke aloud.

“... Parad.”

“You like games?”

A hesitant nod.

Dan smiles, perhaps a bit more genuinely than before. He brushes off Parad’s shoulders, then grips his upper arms.

“Come along then, Parad. I have something to show you.”


End file.
